Orange Is The New Black: Where Are They Now?
by colonellunchmeat
Summary: A decade after the Litchfield Riot of '17...what happened to everybody? Who got paroled, fell in love, grew up a little, or didn't grow up much at all?
1. Chapter 1

Leanne Paukstrom wobbled a bit as she entered the intake of Perception Place. Another goddamn rehab. What could any frickin' encounter group, or Narcotics Anonyshit program or the cutest guru in Minnesota do to compete with her desire to get high?

Rumspringa hadn't gone well for Leanne. Growing up in Berks County, she'd been one of the good girls for so long. She'd even reported their visiting Wenger Mennonite cousin when he was sipping a Miller Light out by the well.

When it came time for the "free period", when you decided whether or not you were going to stay Amish, Leanne had actually told her father that she'd be just as happy to just spend it playing volleyball with her still pious friends.

But Papa, not so Gelassenheit, had urged Leanne to see things. He'd always been a little forward, and had once sneaked the family into Reading to see "The Little Mermaid".

It had happened so fast. Weed and Champale with a black farmhand down the road; tricking in Philly; and then making, selling, and being imprisoned for meth...oh, Crystal Meth!

Leanne sometimes wondered how her parents were. So trusting had Papa been in letting his oldest daughter know where he buried the jars of savings; she'd never dared return after that, but Leanne had seen her mother over the fence during the riot at MCC-Litchfield.

Angie had shouted "Hey, nice bonnet" to Leanne's mom...but after that, when Leanne had been re-housed in Camden, New Jersey, Mama had not visited.

Speaking of Angie-who was that coming out of the back there? Leanne was sitting on the prospect's bench. She'd been in so many programs, Daytop Village, Phoenix House, Second Genesis in Upper Marlboro, Maryland...even Habilitat on the island of Maui.

Leanne knew that she couldn't stand up or she'd be shouted at by the gremlin behind the desk. Therapeutic communities were like that. Should she wave?

That's Angie. Curly black hair cut short now. Angie had her arm around a sobbing dude. Were they doing it? Leanne wondered what Angie was doing here. Had she been referred by a state or Federal judge?

Those days in Litchfield. Finding something to smoke. All the time. Her friendship with Angie had truly flowered after she'd stopped hanging around with Tiffany "Pennsatucky" Doggett...Leanne had been excited about Pennsy's religiosity, and had tried to stay clean...but fuck that, Tiff was just a douche bag.

As Papa once said, "Some have feet of clay". Yeah. But Leanne and Angie had really had a great time in Litchfield, and then had been paroled within a year of each other...and Angie had picked her up at the gate!

Then there had been a nice nine month binge together in the free world until Angie had been shot in the leg while robbing Home Depot, and Leanne had taken off.

Nine years later...and there she was! Would Angie forgive Leanne for splitting?

Leanne waited till the desk creep looked at his Smartphone (really nice, this rehab, they never allowed that in Leanne's early rehab experiences, couldn't even use the damn pay phone)

And she waved! Angie looked up, smiled, and waved back, and then patted the crying dude on the shoulder and walked past the desk...and Leanne stood up and they hugged.

Would the desk guy scream at them? No, he was just smiling. Damn.

"I'm so glad to see you," Leanne babbled in a throaty whisper. "Are you here under a bench warrant thing? I got clean female piss in a bottle in my one shoe and some stolen Percocet in-"

"Oh, I wish you hadn't told me that." Angie sighed.

"Wh-why? Just so we can sneak out-"

"The rules are, no contraband here, and we gotta call the authorities. Can't lose our licensing."

"Well, you can let it go, can't you? This is just another dump. Jesus back in the day-"

"But I'm this dump's Nurse Therapist. And my husband's the director." Angie smiled ruefully as the truth hit Leanne, who began looking somewhat betrayed.

"Joshua" Angie called to the desk gremlin. "Call the station. We have a problem."


	2. Chapter 2

Galina Reznikov hated the old Nissan Altima. Even though it was a sedan, Red never felt as if she had enough room for her still magnificent legs.

And my ears are ringing, Red thought to herself. Was it because of being hit by that animal, Vee, with the combination lock in a sock, so many years ago?

Red felt Norma looking at her and she reluctantly smiled. Norma and Red usually took the front seats, but Norma had taken up crocheting.

"How-how-are you-Red?" Norma smiled hesitantly.

Yoga turned her Tweety Bird head around from the front seat. "Listen to that! Norma, you sound grand. Keep talking!"

Norma blushed, and Red shook her head, grinding her teeth. Why did Yoga not understand...Norma just wanted to be like everyone else, and not be complimented.

Red gave Norma one of her rare smiles. "I was happy with Norma's notes, and I love to hear her voice. Silence from others might be a nice thing, though."

Refusing to be baited, Yoga turned her head back and began talking with Alex Vause.

There was a dull thumping from the trunk.

Norma's eyes spoke reams that only Red comprehended: That poor guard!

Red smiled and pressured her friend's hand. "We may not have to kill him, dear. Speech therapy"-Red looked derisively at the front seat-"Laetrile farms, my deli, it all costs so much.

I was terribly proud of you, Norma, when, without a stammer you shouted 'This is a hold up!' and that silly loan officer peed his pants. I only wish Frieda was alive to see our good work."

Norma smiled back, squeezed Red's hand, and tried to ignore more of the banging, and more than a little sobbing, from the trunk.


	3. Chapter 3

Taystee Washington snorted, and shook her head as she passed a paperback to the new fish. Training the library clerks was such a joy. No one listened.

"Now see, fo' instance. 362 section, in Dewey Decimals is crime, whereas TWO hundreds is philosophy and religion."

Taystee shook her head. "That is one dumb blonde. They say blondes are dumb but that girl over at the table is DUUUMB." She handed another book from the three sixties to her new assistant, a biography of Ted Bundy.

"Though she's not so blonde anymore" said the new convict, as she waved the Bundy book questioningly. "Turning gray, Chapman is. This goes where?"

"See, this a biog, which would be ninety-two, but because it's about Bundy, who killed women an' put makeup on them? It's also in the three-sixties."

Taystee smiled sourly. "I've been in and out of this prison for twenty years, an' read that book SO many times. Ted Bundy, a white Republican. There was a description of him, no one believed it was him."

Taystee gestured to the crying blonde, who was at a nearby table, writing a letter.

"Chapman? She was in here fo' a year on a drug charge?

Her lezzie lover fingered her, so to speak, right? Chapman lands in here, the lover, Vause, lands here too, Chapman fo'gives her, and then also lets it go when Alex Vause does it again, to keep Chapman from getting out early... And then-"

"No, that's a Six Sixteen book. The three-sixties do have some drug addiction in them, but so do the Six hundreds. " Taystee shook her head at the new inmate.

"You ain't bright are you? And you here for embezzlement. Try to pay attention."

Taystee looked back at Piper Chapman.

"Yeah, so then Chapman, just suppose to be here fo' a year, year and a half? Alex Vause killed a guard and buried him in the garden out there, and put it on Piper, and so Piper's been here YEARS now. I see her, and I come and go. We both been here fo'ever...

...And she is writing to Alex Vause STILL. Wants to fo'give her. And Vause? She's wheelman fo' the 'Frieda's Flamebirds' bank robbery group? On the teevee every got-damn night."

"I've been here forever too." the new library assistant observed.

"Yes, that's right, Natalie, you have, haven't you, in one way or another?"

"No, Taystee, I'll never be Natalie again. Just call me Fig. Like you did in the negotiations after the riot."

"Whatever you say. Figueroa. Now THIS is nine hunn'id. History-"


	4. Chapter 4

Natalie Figeuroa left the library, her head dazzled by the Dewey Decimal System. Taystee's parting insight "Some people say that Dewey Decimal was a Revolutionary War hero that started the first libraries in the U.S., but I don't think that's for sure true."

Natalie walked past a group of older women, and one hissed "Fuckin' Fig." Just walk on. It's not your fault, Natalie, that these people's lives don't work. Really, if they'd had all the money for their frills, if I'd not taken it, does that mean they'd be reformed now?

Seriously...Natalie thought. The new warden's a Boy Scout, they actually may re-fill the pool, despite the law-and-order-hang-em-high Republican Congress, and all the other goodies are coming back-and these women aren't going anywhere, and they blame me, "Fig" Figueroa.

There is a reason your life is not working, Nat. How she wished Joe was still the warden here. He was the ultimate snowflake (he and that idiot Healy, the pseudo-counselor) but he might've given her a gig in the office. Not that she could type or anything.

"Only type to compose" Natalie's mother had told her and her sisters. "Otherwise, the male power structure will have you as a secretary for life."

Truth was, Natalie didn't really want to work that hard, and she'd enjoyed everything about public service-long weekends, that sort of thing. Except of course the money. Which is why she was now serving time in the till that had tempted her.

What was so disgusting, besides that Jason, her faggot ex-husband was still in the State Senate, thief that he was...was that Natalie's bunk was above that little bitch Piper Chapman, who worked with a reporter to catch "Fig" at her ah, budgetary malfeasances.

But, then again, Chapman wasn't violent. They didn't speak much, and so far Fig had not been assaulted by any other inmates. So things might not be that bad, angry as most of the women should be with her.

"Figgie, darling."

Natalie looked up at a somewhat muscular, though overweight woman who resembled Ralph Kramden at his worst. Short black hair, this creature made Rosie O'Donnell seem like Posh Spice.

"May I help you?" Just be cold. Does that tattoo say BUTCH?

"I-I wanted to welcome you to Litchfield. My name is Carrie, but some call me Big Boo."

"Nice to meet you, I've got to go for count-"

"Oh dear, no. You have plenty of time. As a matter of fact, I've asked someone to cover for you, so you and I can go into chapel and talk. You know me...you don't remember? Somehow you were asked about my parole, and you were what, the warden's secretary?"

"I was the Executive Assistant, and my husband-"

"Yes, of course. The warden, Enfield, or whatever his name was back in '11, didn't have time to note my good time or any of that, and so you just wrote something that apparently put the good men of the Board off, when I met with them. I'm sure it was a mistake."

As the creature spoke to Natalie, she seemed to have put her hammy fist around Natalie's arm, and they were walking-or Nat was being propelled-into the chapel.

"I don't want to go in here, Carrie. I'm an atheist-"

"You might not be now, but after we spend some time together, you most definitely will be."

"What?"

"Quiet, sugar. Don't upset Daddy any more than you have to. I have a strap-on under the first pew."


	5. Chapter 5

Sophia smiled nervously at Sister Ingalls.

"You are sure this is what you want, Sophia? I'd do anything for you, dear."

"Oh, Sister Ingalls, I know that. If this is uncomfortable for you..."

"No, no. They took me back, and they can't be too surprised at anything I come up with. I have promised them not to work for nuclear disarmament any more."

"You went back to wearing the habit?"

"Well, after my unfortunate ugly brown uniform at Litchfield..."

"Yes, this is much better."

"Don't be so uncertain dear."

"You've told them about me, I'm African American and..."

"If you've seen 'Sister Act' you know that's not the big issue."

"Sure, I guess they'll have a hard time accepting a transgender nun?"

"Well, if we can-that is, you and me-come up with the estrogen you need, that won't be an issue. We just won't tell them."

"But isn't that a sin?"

"Certainly. But we can just have it expiated in Confession. One lie each, three Hail Marys..."

"But won't we have to tell the priest what the lie is?"

"Father DiGenova is the biggest cocksucker in New York State. He'll probably buy us margaritas after we leave the confessional..."


	6. Chapter 6

"And so yeah...Morello got off for having sawed up her ex-fiancée Christopher or who she thought was her fiancée...and Nicky defended her-Nicky is a lawyer now-got pardoned for all the shit that went down 'cos she started a rehab in prison."

John Bennet smiled and looked into Daya's eyes. "That's amazing. So Morello is free? She sounds like a lunatic."

"No...she's on Death Row for Christopher's wife. The Clorox didn't quite dissolve one of her teeth...and Nicky couldn't help there.

But Morello is answering a lot of fan mail. And Morello also has a guy she had a baby with who she married in prison the first time-but she loved Christopher more-and he's still real supportive."

John Bennet couldn't believe they'd reunited. Here he was-a security guard for network TV...and Daya was a makeup artist for "The View".

"This is a sweet gig for you Dayanara-and we can see each other every day. I sure enjoyed making dinner for you last night. I didn't know you were a professional makeup artist?"

"Yeah. Joy Behar hired me but it helps that my Mom knows her. After Mom was on TV during the prison riots-she is real popular now. They really like her on "The View".

There was screaming. John Bennet got up suddenly.

"Shit-Daya. Your mom is trying to pull Ann Coulter's hair again-banging her head on the damn table! I got to go out there. Whoopi is calling me!"

Daya smiled. Everything was so copacetic!


End file.
